


138

by anticipatedepiphany



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: A small drabble based after 5x13, Clarke wanted to give Madi something small for her birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26631703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticipatedepiphany/pseuds/anticipatedepiphany
Summary: Madi Griffin,Happy 138th Birthday.Or, thirteenth. However you prefer it.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Madi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	138

It took nine months for Madi to enlighten Clarke on her date of birth.

Alas, it was a rough estimate; Shallow Valley were not as punctual with remembering dates and observing the marks of time like Skaikru were. Each day that the two of them remained in solitude on the ruins of a once vastly populated earth, Clarke would make it a monotonous daily occurrence to write down the date in a journal and encourage Madi to copy so that her writing abilities improved.

It was a way of proving that they were there, and Clarke’s inference of keeping the routine of her people firmly within her mind. One of the only things that remained adopted from them.

After a day of unusual silence from the six-year-old who quite often wished to proclaim everything she possibly could to Clarke - whether it was about her people, her family, or any questions that arose in that small mind of hers that seemed to be compact with an abundance of information she wished to share, yet, for that twenty four hours, Madi disclosed nothing to her.

A couple of days after, the brunette shared that she believed the day of silence to have been her day of birth, although no celebrations were placed. There were no grand events like Clarke and the other privileged had back on the arc before certain issues and firmer regulations came into place. That birthdays were merely another year of success on the ground when lives were lost so easily.

From that moment, Clarke oathed that the day within her memory, the 27th September, would be the day that they celebrated Madi’s life in a manner she had never experienced before. Each year, the blonde always endeavoured to craft some sort of drawing other than the charcoal she used on a regular basis, searching amongst the valley to use whichever sources possible. Usually, it was watercolours, yet, one year, she had managed to scout paints.

Like their relationship throughout the year - or one hundred and twenty five years, if they were to be technical - finding anything to use upon the limited paper she had convinced the others she needed, let alone what Shaw deciphered as ‘colouring pens.’ However, Clarke knew the she was required to adapt. That she would adapt to maintain the routine.

Very much like her adaptations towards Madi growing into her fate, like the colour of her blood deciphered her into becoming: if anything, the drawing was symbolism that, although her twelfth year in life had resulted in being difficult for the two of them, that the thirteenth would be easier.

Clarke did not even utter her disagreements with the child being ushered away to complete her training with Gaia that morning: she was fully aware of the requirements of being the Commander and that emotional events such as birthdays were disregarded. Allowing the brunette to carry herself out of the bed and straight to her people was yet another way of the mother-like figure to prove her dedication to her daughter, and who she was developing into.

She did, however, ensure that she left the annual drawing alongside her water canteen moments before she knew the child would be having her allotted break, alongside a note that contained words the blonde did not wish to leave until the evening.

The drawing was an irregular affair compared to Clarke’s usual technique. Drawing with new materials was an obstacle Clarke had eventually managed to congress, but, unlike aforementioned years, the details conveyed much more meaning than usual. She had been drawn with a posture of elegance within her mind, in the exact position Clarke had captured her within as she walked to the ship with her people beside her, the uniform of the Head holstered amongst her petite frame and the symbol graced upon her temple.

Usually, it would merely be a drawing of the child and only the child, but, once again, things had been revised for reformed times. The Commander of Death had temporarily become the Commander of Scenery, as she maintained memories of Shallow Valley around the child that was quickly blossoming from adolescence into her teenage years.

Above it was the note scribbled within the woman’s regular cursive writing, written in a size she knew Madi would be capable of reading with ease.

Madi Griffin,

Happy 138th Birthday.

Or, thirteenth. However you prefer it.

Even if this year is training central, they’ll be something extra waiting for you back in what we can call home. We’re not in Shallow Valley anymore, but it was still our home and moving on doesn’t mean forgetting. Shallow Valley is still as much as a part of you as the previous Commanders are in your mind. Hopefully this drawing allows you to remember that.

Also, if you smell burning, it’s because I’ve attempted a recipe that Murphy generously gave me.

Clarke.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was written almost two years ago now and, as you can see, is a very brief drabble that was written for the Madi to my Clarke to celebrate her birthday, which is once again coming up!
> 
> After the traumatic mess that was last night’s episode, I felt compelled to post this. I haven’t revised it or anything, so it isn’t perfect, but I hope it raises you, the reader’s, spirit a little. Stay strong. Only one week to go now.


End file.
